


Wandering Beds

by Raaage



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, i would, link sleeping a lot, naps, old stuff, the Hyrule would be a better place if people took more naps, wouldn't you like to take a nap too?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-07-18 17:05:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16122965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raaage/pseuds/Raaage
Summary: An adventurer must be ready to sleep anywhere. ANYWHERE.[A collection of drabbles of Link sleeping.]





	1. With Evil

**Author's Note:**

> Old stuff. I thought I would post it anyways. I'll post them once a week to share!

Ganondorf awoke to the feeling of being spooned. 

It was disturbing, having gone to bed alone and waking to a stranger’s warm body hugging the curve of his spine. It was cozy and snugly and comforting and so, so wrong for the one named the King of Evil. Kings of Evil were not spooned. 

In the darkness he could not see his bedmate, but the weightlessness of the arm draped over his ribs suggested that it was a mouse of a man. Ganondorf wrenched himself away and snapped his fingers. A flame sprung in in his hand, casting a glow over the bed. There slept the Hero of Legend, still clad in his dirty green frock. He screwed up his adorable baby-face and turned into the pillow, hiding from the light.

Ganondorf rose, preparing to smite the slumbering nit, when a desert wind swept through the window. The Gerudo king shuddered, caught in the spell of the chill. He noticed a grappling hook caught on the sill and a rope lead down into the wasteland. The moon was high, shedding light on the distant sandstorms.

Ganondorf looked again at the dozing Hylian. He was dirty and sand-scraped from fighting his way across the dunes. He had probably crawled into the first bed he could find. The fool must not have realized that the King of Evil returned home on occasion. Or, judging by the exhaustion on his face, perhaps he hadn’t even realized the bed had been occupied.

Ganondorf watched the small, swaddled chest rise and fall and realized that he too was tired. Something deep in his bones told him to stay his hand, to wait another day to play out the Goddesses’ game.

 _Very well_ , he thought. He climbed once more under the sheets. “Until dawn, hero. Until dawn…”


	2. The Temple of Time

 

It had been seven years since Rauru had sequestered himself in the Temple of Time. A dutiful sage, he had abandoned the outside world to serve at the bedside of the sleeping Hero. So far he had braved his isolation with an iron resolve, holding insanity at an arm’s length with mountains of books, playing cards, yoga manuals, and a loom to make his own clothes. Still, seven years was a long time. It was enough to make anyone a little nutty.

“Link, mo’ boy!” Rauru thundered, his voice ringing throughout the stone chamber. He bent over the comatose youth. “Today is a very special day. Do you know why?”

 Link breathed in. Breathed out.

“Correct! Today is the day you will finally awaken!” Rauru grabbed his trumpet and blasted a victory tune. Then, the Sage of Light turned to stare at the temple’s old grandfather clock, its arms mere minutes from midnight.

The final moment was approaching. Rauru had extended every effort to prepare Link for the next stage of his destiny: he had weaved an adult-sized tunic, plus underwear and breeches; he had even fashioned Link’s boots out of a baby deer he had raised and slaughtered in the temple bathroom. The face that had once been round and soft had grown handsome and refined. How Rauru had waited for this day!

The seconds ticked down: 10… 5… The temple bells rang deep, almost somberly. Rauru dropped to his knees and threw his arms in the air, teary-eyed. “Thank you,” he whispered to the Goddesses above.

 Link breathed in. Breathed out.

Rauru scrunched his brows together. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

 Link breathed in. Breathed out.

The sage tried not to shake with tension. Maybe Link was just a little late, like how some babies failed to exit the womb on time. 

In. Out. 

Rauru roared. He sprang from the floor, tripping over scrolls and half-knitted sweaters until he reached his stack of calendars. He flipped through them madly. “Impossible! Today is the day!”

Yet through his angry haze, Rauru could hear a voice—no, a trio of voices: _“He is not ready yet …”_

“What?” Rauru said. “B-but I’ve done everything! The shoes, the tights, the little green dress! I bundled him in winter, fanned him in summer! What more do you want from me?!” 

_“One more thing…”_ said the goddesses. _“One more…”_  

They were fading. Rauru had been alone for so long that he cried out, “Wait! Don’t go!” 

Silence once more. A lone tear trickled down Rauru’s face. 

He climbed his mountain of books, digging (with a shovel) until he found his copy of _Hyrule Historia_. He skimmed the tome, examining the pictures of Heroes who came and went, searching for a clue. “One more thing,” he muttered. “What could it be?”

The pages turned to a portrait of a man, the first Hero ever born to Hyrule. He faced east, his profile sharp and regal. Rauru examined the sketch for similarities: there was the cap, the windswept hair, the determined eyes, the ears adorned with…

“That’s it!” Rauru threw the book aside, sliding and wobbling down the mountain. He seized a lemon, split it in two; he sanitized a needle in boiling water. Last, he removed two of his finger rings and began to rub them; beneath his magic, they slimmed to small loops of plain silver. He looked down at the sleeping Link. A late baby he would be no more. Rauru placed one lemon half behind Link’s ear and plunged the needle through the lobe.

Link screeched, his eyes popping open. Rauru slipped one earring through the bleeding hole, shouting, “Your destiny awaits!”


	3. A Child Sleeps Softly

Link woke up in a body that was too tall and too big. When walked into town, the villagers stared at him with empty eyesockets, their flesh stretched tight across their bones. Hyrule Castle loomed in the distance, its towers were sunken in an ominous black fog. A voice rose from deep inside of him, telling him to take sword in hand, to slay the beast within the castle walss. But while his destiny pulled him towards his enemy, Link’s heart pushed him out of the ransacked town and over the crumbling drawbridge. The field opened before him, and beyond lay a strip of green. The wind blew in his face, bringing the scent of damp pines, dogwood, and moss. He was going to Kokiri Forest. He was going home.

 

Crossing Hyrule Field on foot was a full day’s journey, and Link didn’t rest until he’d reached the woods. By then, a swollen moon hung in a glittering sky. Link’s knees ached and his boots cut into his heels, but he pushed himself onwards by thinking about how, in just a few minutes, he would be able to soak himself in Kokiri Pond in the company of familiar faces.

 

The first person he ran into was Mido. The Kokiri blocked Link’s path into the village, his face twisted into a scowl. He looked just as snobbish as Link had left him, and the sense of familiarity made Link smile. But when Mido asked how a _man_ had made it through the woods with his humanity intact, the answer died on Link’s tongue. He looked down at himself and felt his stomach go cold.

 

It didn't matter if he had been chosen by the Great Deku Tree. He was different, and it showed. Now, he would never be accepted.

 

“Whatcha standing around for, dummy! Leave! Get lost!”

 

Link turned, still unused to his new body, tripped over a half-hidden ledge. Mido laughed as he flailed.

 

He needed to see Saria. She, out of everyone, always knew what to do, and seeing her smile would be well worth a trip into the Lost Woods. It was said that rarely should one enter the woods with a doubtful heart, but Link decided that this venture had to be one of those exceptions. The forest had grown gloomier over the last years. Lichen crawled across the ground and up massive tree trunks, giving everything a sick, ghostly look. Sometimes he thought he could hear the faint sounds of an ocarina, but every time he strained to listen, the song would fall short.

 

A cloud passed across the moon. The forest plunged into an unnatural darkness. Link couldn’t see anything, yet some uncanny instinct pushed him onwards as if something horrible would happen if he stopped walking. In fact, when he listened carefully, he could hear something shifting in the darkness behind him. Link spun, whipping out his sword to face whatever creature was following him, but he saw nothing but shadows—shadows that writhed and screeched and stretched their arms toward him, crawling up his legs. Link ran, crashing through brush and bramble. His heart thundered in his ears. He tried to breathe, but his lungs felt like they were being squeezed, wrung out like a rag. Suddenly, a flash of lightning, and he dashed for the illuminated treeline—

 

—and burst into the middle of Kokiri Village. He skidded to a stop, dizzy and disoriented. Then—screams. The other Kokiri fled at the sight of him, ducking into the shadows or behind trees or shutting themselves in their houses. Link caught sight of a reflection in a window and saw a face—a stranger’s face—and after moments of blinking and staring, he realized he was looking at himself.

 

Link needed to be alone. Thankfully, his treehouse was just down the path. A few of the ladder rungs broke on his way up, and he scarcely pulled himself onto the balcony and through the door. The floor and walls were covered in dust. His cot lay in a pool of moonlight. Link’s limbs had never felt heaver. He was ready to lose himself to the darkness of sleep, but then he realized that he was far too big for his own bed.

 

It was then that Link realized this forest was no longer his home, and it never truly had been. Who he was or where he belonged, he did not know. The Great Deku Tree hadn’t called Link before him to speak of love and kinship; the only reason Link had a fairy now was because he was on a quest. He wasn’t a child of the forest, just a child that was lost.

 

Peeling away the dust-choked quilt, he kneeled and let his head drop onto the mattress. He could feel a pressure mounting in his chest, clawing its way up his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to swallow and choke it back down, but a small, quivering sound forced its way through. Suddenly, his face was wet, and his shoulders were shaking.

 

A light flickered—Navi fluttered onto his cheek and stroked aside a strand of hair. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll watch over you.”

 

After a moment, Link wiped his face and let out a shaky sigh. He pulled off the dusty quilt and pillow and climbed onto the bed. He curled up as tight as he could, squeezing himself in between the head and footboards, and slowly, softly, lost himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for making it this far. I'd love to know what you think of the fic! :D If u liked it pls let me know in the comments or the kudo button!


	4. Like Royalty

 

Today, they would call her Queen.

 

Zelda gazed into the mirror, chin high, eyes bold and steely. Her father had passed a month ago, leaving the crown to his only daughter. Zelda had bawled her eyes out, though only for the sake of appearance; Impa was far more a loving parent, and being queen was something Zelda had looked forward to her whole life. To have Hyrule bow and tremble at her fingertips—yes, the throne was hers.

 

Her coronation would begin in a few minutes. Her only regret was that her best friend would not be there to see it. As the sole ranger of the royal guard, Link had been sent to rid Death Mountain of a gelatinous lava monster. He hadn’t been seen for two weeks, not even by the Gorons. Elder Darunia feared the worst, but Zelda knew that Link would come back sooner or later, as he always did.

 

The maids finished plating her hair, and Impa placed Zelda’s usual circlet atop her head. Together, princess and nursemaid proceeded towards the throne room. Yet as they navigated the halls, Zelda could tell that something was wrong. The guards jerked as she passed, their salutes as clunky and stiff as their armor. Moreover, a trail of soot soiled the carpet. Zelda couldn’t keep the frown off her face as the stain lead through the expansive throne room doors.

 

The room was packed with a colorful throng of guests—Goron elders, Zoran royalty, Gerudo ambassadors, and most of the castle staff—but not a peep came from the crowd. Heads snapped in Zelda’s direction, the silence so encompassing that you could hear the pop of their creaky joints. The air vibrated with a nervous energy. The only one who dared move was Zelda—she marched straight ahead, eyes locked on the body slumped on her throne…

 

As predicted, Link was not in the belly of a beast. It seemed that, the night before, he hadn’t made it back to his quarters and decided to make a bed out of her royal dais. Smeared with soot, he slumped atop the throne’s gold and scarlet glory like a bedraggled champion. His grimy hands lay on the lion-head armrests as if he had the beasts at his beck and call, the winged Triforce array fanning out behind him like the rising sun.

 

One of the guards stepped forward. “We’ve been trying to remove him since dawn, but, uh…”

 

“My soldiers can’t even move a sleeping boy from a chair?” Zelda snapped. She climbed the steps to the throne, dead-set on putting Link in his place, when she caught sight of his face… His lashes were surprisingly long and soft-looking; they had settled gently atop his cheeks, golden as summer wheat. Beneath the soot smears glowed rosy cheeks. His lips curled as he dreamed of a thousand sweet and lovely things, his chest rising and falling to a gentle rhythm.

 

“You see?” said the guard.

 

“Quiet!” said Zelda, though she was fighting the desire to stroke Link’s hair. Gathering her wits, she grabbed his shoulder and jostled him gently, very gently. “Link, wake up.”

 

“Nnn!” Link whined. He tucked his arms and legs into a ball, curling into the cushions.

 

Zelda shook a little harder. “Link, go sleep in your room.”

 

“Nnn…?” Link’s eyes opened a sliver. He blinked at Zelda and, after a sleepy pause, he wiggled to the side, clearing a small space on the cushion. He patted the spot, beckoning his friend to sit. Then he snuggled into the satin and slipped back into his dreams.

 

The throne room was silent. Zelda stood stiffly, a dead sort of look on her face. Then she spun around and said to Impa, “Proceed!”

 

Impa didn’t miss a beat. Snapping her fingers, she called forth the crown bearer. Zelda bent her head, her father’s gold a perfect fit. Then she squeezed herself into the little space Link had made for her. She tried to ignore that he was there, but he turned and, with a happy sigh, lay his head on her shoulder.

 

“All praise Zelda, Queen of Hyrule!” Impa shouted. The crowd clapped.

 

“Nnn…” said Link.

 


	5. On Horseback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is soooo short

The sun was dipping its belly into the ocean when Link fell asleep in Epona’s saddle. The mare ceased her step, sensing that Link had left this world, and came to a gentle stop at the shoreline. The ebb and flow of the tide matched Link’s breathing, surging forward with each inhale, retreating with every sigh.

 

A gull cried overhead. _Shhhh_ , said the waves. _Don’t wake him._

 

Epona watched as the light went from yellow to red to purple, little sequin stars studding the sky. She stood until the water swirled about her ankles, then turned around and walked her master home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last one!!! Thank you for reading, and for getting this far! It amazes me. Please let me know if you liked it --or criticism!-- with the comments/kudo button.


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